4
It was Thanksgiving morning, and I was being tortured.
“You’re an officer of the law,” I gasped.“Help me, for God’s sake.”
“Let’s make it to the end of the trees,” Bobby said—and he was such a jerk that he didn’t even sound like he was out of breath.With unnecessary enthusiasm, he added, “You can do it.”
Could?Maybe.Wanted to?Definitely not.
It was a beautiful day.The clouds had moved out.The sky had just the barest tint of blue, like water in a glass.The cold was tight but not sharp, and now, with my body in danger of overheating (in my professional opinion, anyway), it felt wonderful as we “jogged” through the Sitka spruce woods.Bobby kept pace easily with me, and in his long-sleeved athletic tee and mid-thigh shorts and fancy running shoes, he looked…good.
And I blamed him (and my general lack of good judgment when it came to all things Bobby) for how I’d gotten into this mess in the first place.
“You’re doing great, Dashiell!”Althea Wilson called as she jogged past.Althea owned Ancient Mariner Antiques and had white hair down to her waist (although today, of course, it was up).She was probably a million years old.And she was leaving me in her dust.“Don’t give up!”
“Oh my God—” I began to moan.
That was when Tessa AND HER NINE-YEAR-OLD DAUGHTER passed us.Tessa gave us a smile and a wave and said, “Looking good, guys!”
I tried to stop, but my body had forgotten how.
“I give up,” I panted.“Push me into a ditch.Leave me for the wolves.”
“I don’t think we have any wolves around here,” Bobby said.
I made some more desperate panting noises.
“Also, I don’t see any ditches,” Bobby added thoughtfully.
I’m not proud of it, but that almost made me cry.
Instead, I channeled my anger.“Why?Why would anyone do this for fun?”
“A lot of people—”
“Why would anyone run a hundred thousand miles on this day, of all days?On this sacred, special day that’s supposed to be about eating until you fall asleep in front of the TV, and then waking up to eat some more until you feel sick and have to lie on the floor, and then when Indira gets distracted, you get yourself some more of the trifle she made, and then they have to pump your stomach at the hospital or you’re going to explode.”
“I know you’re joking,” Bobby said, but we only made it another yard before he said, “Right?”
I groaned.“I’m dehydrated.I’ve got no water left.My body has zero water.”
“We’re almost there.Another twenty yards.”
Genius, my old friend, struck: “I’ve got a cramp.”
Bobby took a long look at me and said, “Where?”
That one stumped me.
Somehow, I was still running.
I went for the gold standard, the one that would definitely work with Bobby because he was my friend and he cared about me and because he was professionally obligated to intervene: “I’m dying,” I said, and I let the end of it turn into a wail.
When I finished, Bobby said, “I didn’t know your voice could go so high.”
Up ahead, Tessa was explaining to her daughter, “No, honey, everyone’s fine.That’s the noise a turkey makes when it’s happy.”
Bobby looked like he was trying not to laugh.
